Delicious
by Stupid Asian
Summary: Three years can change a man. Especially a man like Jack Spicer. (Rated M for semi-graphic descriptions of gore and mild adult themes). Warnings: gore, blood, murders, adult themes, unoriginality. (This is a two or three-part story.)


**I am back!**

**Sorry I have not updated "The First Dragon" in two months (when I promised I'll only be offline for a few days). The wifi took longer than usual to install, and so I've only had access to wifi since the 31st of March. I know that doesn't give me an excuse because I've mentioned before that I write my stories on Evernote and then transfer them onto my laptop, and I assure you that I have notes on them on my phone right now, it's just that I'm in a bit of a rut.**

**I read through "The First Dragon" a couple minutes ago and I did not like what I wrote. I'm currently stuck between deleting the whole thing and starting over, or editing bits and pieces before continuing where I left off, but I believe that what I wrote was not even up to my level of satisfaction or even what I consider mediocre, so I feel very depressed for even letting you guys see it or read it.**

**I feel it would be best if maybe I discontinued "The First Dragon" for the time being, while I sort my thoughts and get interested in the plot I intentioned again, so I can continue writing it.**

**For now, to satisfy my readers and to help clear up my head and give me something new to work on, I have written a two-part (maybe three) fanfiction on Jack Spicer's interesting current hobbies and eating habits, and Chase's meeting the new and (somewhat) improved Jack Spicer. I'm thinking of going the clichéd route and maybe re-introducing Jack Spicer to a showdown against the monks? I don't know, depends on what I feel like doing to the story.  
**

**But anyways, enjoy!**

**- (A Very) Stupid Asian**

**Edit (29/05/14) - Edited parts of this chapter. Chapter 2 will be up soon.**

* * *

Jack Spicer has been missing for a while now. Most believe that he has abandoned the conflict. Some say he abandoned society. Others: his life.

All three are far from the truth. All are likely possibilities, but none of them were the truth. But then again, people start to believe these fabricated concepts, especially regarding an otherwise energetic albino goth that disappeared years ago for no apparent reason.

The most likely theory for the cause of his (random) disappearance was realisation. He realised that the conflict was not for him, as he was quite literally the only candidate that did not have the capability of performing tricks. No, not simple, magician's tricks contained in a cardboard box sold in dollar stores. He meant real tricks: teleportation, telekinesis, elemental control or even auditory or visual illusions. He couldn't do any of it.

Another theory was depression. The physical, mental and emotional stress that he had to cope with for those entire three years in the conflict had finally taken its toll on him, and it quite literally drowned him à la tsunami. Having to see his masterpieces, that he had spent so much time making, customising and perfecting, be destroyed on a daily basis with just a bit of fancy footwork by four kids. Those same four kids that would ridicule his appearance, his weaknesses and his (admittedly few) strengths. Those same four kids that were just as strange as he, yet Jack was always treated like he was the alien, due to his exotic colouring. This, adding on to the fact that he was merely a child when he joined the magical rumble, could've developed an inferiority complex which further could've led to clinical depression.

Of course there were more notions, more stories, but they were all just slightly different from these two. Regardless of which one was the more likely possibility, they were both still shocking. Due to his boisterous nature, his animated confidence and his Godzilla-sized ego, many simply ignored the albino and did not notice his disappearance until several weeks after, when air replaced where he once stood.

Then came the suspicions.

**_Where is he? _**

**_What happened to him? _**

**_What is he planning? _**

**_It's got to be big if we haven't seen him for this long._**

Weeks came and then came the calm. The calm before the storm?

**_He could've backed out. _**

**_He probably realised this isn't for him. _**

**_Getting his pasty ass whooped on a daily basis probably taught him a thing or two, however slow he came to learn it._**

Months; and then came the paranoia, hysteria, the conflict-wide anxiety.

**_What if he came back today? _**

**_What if he spent that time to become dangerous? _**

**_Would Jack Spicer actually be a threat?_**

More months; and then it quieted down. A year; and people have forgotten what it was like to have him around. Two years passed and no one has seen or heard of Jack Spicer. Three; and they've forgotten.

They've forgotten of the child, the Jack Spicer that they all met when he was simply eleven.

The child who bruised like a peach, who screamed like a monkey at the slightest idea of getting hurt and had a mind several centuries before its time.

The child with shockingly red hair, pale white skin and glowing red eyes.

The child who was given everything he wanted growing up; except for love and companionship.

The Jack Spicer they all met when he was simply eleven, was gone.

* * *

The ethereal glow of the never ending ceiling, smooth marble walls and the cold hard floor. Reflective ponds, marble statues and tall pillars. The calm, the vastness and the throne. The beauty and unexpectedness of Chase Young's citadel was maddening. No speck of dust or dirt; no bumps, scrapes or scratches; everything in Chase Young's citadel was maintained to perfection. Similar to the overlord himself.

Speaking of the overlord.

Chase Young meditates, several feet off the ground. Completely and utterly still in form, the immortal meditates, with only the sound of inhaling and exhaling filling the large room.

A slight shift in the atmosphere, a miniscule drop in temperature and the sound of distant horrified screams.

Chase's eyes snap open and he quickly drops on to solid ground. Briskly walking to his throne, he checks the All-Seeing Eye and focuses on where he believed the screams came from.

The estimated coordinates show up on the Eye, slowly fading to reveal the Xiaolin temple.

Scanning over the familiar area, his eyes draw to the courtyard where Master Fung is seen to be in deep meditation. The four Xiaolin dragons staring at the master in shock, the most terrible of horrors within their eyes.

"Ah."

Eyes zooming in on the old master, Chase changed the angle to view the master's front and immediately knew what the problem was.

Master Fung looked otherwise normal, from his back. The front was an entirely different scene. His eyes were sewn shut, hand stitched and professionally threaded through. The mouth was sewn as well, this time the stitching was loose and the lips were agape, revealing several bloody teeth but no tongue.

His unnaturally straight back was supported by small holes that were threaded up like that of a corset, yet they were small and almost invisible to the naked eye and no blood stained the master's robe. From the front however, the white robes did nothing to hide the sliced open torso. Further scrutiny revealed that the heart, lungs and kidney were taken away. Chase noted that several areas of the body had the muscle and the fat removed as well. The calf, arms and the abdominal area.

Mildly annoyed at the background noise of the monks screaming, Chase ponders on who this mysterious killer might be.

Killing the master of a Xiaolin temple and not the Grand Master or the Imperial Xiaolin Council, suggests that the killer did not like this temple particularly. He also wanted to leave the body out in the open to traumatize the monks, but he wanted them to think that the master was perfectly fine, (hence there were no cuts or speckles of blood on the master's robes,) so further investigation of Fung's silence meant the monks had to get more of an eyeful of the gruesome scene.

Judging by the cuts and neat stitches on the body show that the killer had methodical hands, accustomed to making small incisions as well as deep gashes, with a likely background of performing surgery. Yet the lack of pools of blood that should've surely leaked out of the open torso were missing, so the killer drained the body of most of its blood before decorating the master.

Which meant the killer has done this before.

Chase had heard of killings similar to this. They started a few years ago, with each body formed and 'decorated' (quite beautifully) to their profession:

A catholic priest was kneeling and praying with his eyes and hands sewn together, ironically enough he was kneeling inside of a pentagram made out of his blood.

A judge was chained by the hands from both sides of a court room with his head on a plate of a balancing scale and his eyes, brain and all of his teeth on the other plate. The scale itself was pure gold and was nailed onto the palm of the judge's right hand.

A florist bleeding to death by the thorns of the rose stems encasing his body. Some roses threaded carefully from the cut of his abdominals up through his esophagus to his mouth, which happened to have been ripped open from the sides of his lips to make room for several beautiful white roses. A shame some petals were crushed by his teeth, and that most of the roses were stained in blood.

The most famous killing was one of an up and coming artist, said to reveal his latest masterpiece in the Louvre. On the grand opening of that day at the Louvre, crowds ran out screaming at the sight of the 'masterpiece'. His naked body was sliced into four pieces length wise and encased in separate clear acrylic casing for everyone to see. Each piece running from the top of the artist's head to the bottom of his feet, everyone got to see through everything, even his innards. The clear acrylic was bolted tightly with tungsten onto the floor so there was no possible way to remove the body without having to remove that patch of the flooring. To this day, that patch of flooring reminded everyone of the gruesome butchery.

Each and every murder that happened after that made the world fear the anonymous artist, and no one knew what he would do next. What assured everyone that the same person did all of the murders, were the signature patches of stitches on the same exact places on each victim's bodies. Each body had patches of skin resewn on to it, but removing the thread showed that the muscle and fat underneath those areas were removed cleanly. The same exact places Master Fung's body were missing: the calf, the arms and the abdominal area.

Chase visited all the places the murders took place, hoping to find any trace of the artistic murderer, and noticed an odd lingering scent of perfume. That strange, intoxicating perfume. It seemed expensive, a rather pricy men's perfume. Not out of place in an exclusive department store, but entirely so in a scene of a crime. It was faint enough to bypass the bloodhounds, but it was heavy enough for Chase to notice. Yet under all the smells of fear, terror, sweat and blood, under all the chemicals used in cleaning the body away; that faint perfume always prevails against the heady artificial fresheners and the pungent bodily fluids of the panicking public.

Chase imagined that perfume would be clinging onto Fung's body right now. He never managed to be at the scene of the crime while the murder was still fresh, but he imagined that the same perfume would be adhering to Fung's clothes right now. He'll have to investigate when the body is alone and the children have stopped running around in circles.

* * *

**So that was Chapter 1 of Delicious. Hopefully that wasn't too crappy.**

**If you watched the new season of Hannibal then you may have recognised some of the murder scenes. People think that since I'm basing most of this story off of a show called Hannibal then this story's main character should've been Hannibal Roy Bean. I entertained that thought for a while but then I asked it to leave, because Hannibal Roy Bean was already an insanely evil legume, I didn't want to make him an almost-God. I also really liked the idea of a changed!Jack Spicer, a more grown up, sophisticated evil that is charismatic and handsome and entirely unrecognisable from the bumbling idiot we all knew and loved. A more cool, calm and collected guy that is even more dangerous and equally as deadly. Bryan Fuller's Hannibal Lecter just seemed like an almost perfect character for what I imagined the more grown up Jack Spicer to be like, so I based it off of him. (If you get queasy easily, then do not watch the show. It gets really graphic really fast).**

**Anyways, I was thinking if any of you wanted to collaborate on "The First Dragon" and help me finish this ridiculous thing, or even if you could proofread for me on any grammatical errors and awkward repetitions, or even give me feedback that would be great. Any and all help is appreciated!**

**-Stupid Asian**


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